


Three Sachets of Sugar

by thejerkhunter



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baz is snarky, og me wrote this in half an hour so bear with, simon is a barista
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejerkhunter/pseuds/thejerkhunter
Summary: If Baz Pitch was a coffee he'd be half-strength, milky and too bitter for Simon's liking. And also very, very hot.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce/Micah Cordero, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	1. Love You A Latte

**Author's Note:**

> I published this once ages ago and deleted it bc everything was wrong but hey I got around to fixing it up and writing a little more! 
> 
> tumblr: creativitear

If people drank the coffee they best resembled, Baz knows his cup would be filled to the brim with the most bitter drink imaginable. In fact, if his clothes resemble anything of him, it would result in the very same conclusion.

The coffee stereotype that baristas loved to pin him as always ended in the same weak joke of Baz's actual drink being a complete contradiction to his physical appearance, which isn't even _funny_. His uncaring and nonchalant personality rarely makes an employee connect him with the tall soy iced latte that he frequents, let alone the fact that unless it is mixed with three sachets of sugar, he might as well label it Lucifer's special roast of fucking hell. The fact that people can drink that bitter mess is beyond Baz's tastebuds.

This annoyance is what had initially drawn him to the smaller coffee shop a further distance away from his apartment (well, to tell the truth, what had initially drawn him to it was the small selection of coffee shops open at 3am, but it was debatably what made him continue returning.) Despite the distance, it was worth it and he quickly became friends with the woman behind the counter who, for once, didn't make a glaringly obvious and unfunny joke about his taste in coffee. Instead she had suggested a different mix of beans and handed him the cup of love, dreams and happiness for the reasonable price of $3.75.

He hadn't even meant to become friends with her and, shockingly, he finds himself talking to her for reasons other than the caffeinated perfection she provides him. She is a chubby Indian girl, with odd shades of purple in her hair and oversized specs to match. She too studies English Lit at university, meaning their topic of conversation usually revolves around old pieces of literature and debating the intentions of different book characters. It was rare for Baz to find decent conversation in a city filled with imbeciles and so, unlike himself, he makes an effort to visit her on every second day.

This arrangement continues on for short of 6 months and Baz had grown accustomed to the 12am coffees, with a side of banter and arguing. In fact, in them months he had even met Penny's little American boyfriend who had only moved here a month before Baz's visiting. He is, oddly, exactly the kind of guy he had imagined Penny to be dating, with a slightly geeky side to him past the stern appearance. What he hadn't grown used to, however, was desperately visiting the store on the 3rd hour of the morning, only to be faced with a boy who definitely wasn't Penny.

He pauses in the doorway, blinking in his sleep deprived state. The boy was the living and breathing personification of a sunshine. Even in the dimmed lights, his skin seemed to be some scheme of sunkissed, with hair the colour of golden hour. He lifts his head at the door opening and, suddenly, Baz was filled with enough adrenaline that he doubts he even _needs_ the caffeine shot but he realises that it's a little late to turn around now.

Mr Sunshine shines some sun beam of a grin at him and Baz finds his cheeks sunburnt red as it suddenly becomes a more pressing issue that he is staring shocked at the star in his silk pyjamas. Baz feels like he needs to be wearing layers of sunglasses just to be in the boys direct vision.

"Late night coffee, eh?"

"You're not Penelope." Baz states almost dumbly, hoping that the sharp edge in his voice covers the idiocy of the words. Mr Merriment looks taken aback at the harshness in Baz's tone, but the grin doesn't falter still.

"As similar as we look, I shockingly am not."

Internally, every ounce of Baz's being is sobbing at the fact that the boy is almost _witty_. Witty and cute and still smiling at Baz with that stupid grin of joy. Externally, Baz subconsciously has a mask of pure unjustified loathing.

"Funny," he blanks at the boy, cursing himself for ever mean word that comes out of his mouth. "Iced latte, tall, 3 sugars, whipped cream."

"I didn't expect-!"

"Shush."

"But I didn't even-!"

"Shush." Sunshine pauses, looking the man up and down discriminately. The sun beams from earlier has dimmed and Baz had never felt more like the darkness of the night sky surrounding him.

Although, even with the frown now on his face, he still shone against the black canvas.

"That will be—!" He starts, but Baz had already extended a hand with the change to the penny in it. It was a joke between Penelope and him but Baz realises now, as an afterthought, that the Yellow Fellow probably just thinks he has some questionable caffeine addiction (which wouldn't be entirely wrong).

Sunbeam takes the change, counts it, recounts it, frowns at it, frowns at Baz and then awkwardly fumbles it into the counter. Baz watches with narrowed eyes, prompting Sunny to fumble more around the counter.

"You come here a lot then?" Sun tries with him and Baz finds at least 50 different insults come to the surface of his mind. Instead he squints further at him.

"Was that a pick up line?" Sunshine pauses mid action, takes a second to backtrack and then his eyes widen like saucers. Even though Baz knows the boy was merely trying to create small talk, he almost thinks the look of shock on cute guy's face was worth the comment.Especially when he starts stumbling over his words.

"No, no, I mean, I'm not— well, that's kind of! There was one time— you don't need to— I'm not," Sunny attempts, his cheeks now burning scarlet. Then, a very sudden, very loud: "I'm not hitting on you!"

Baz gives him a once over, pushing back the voice that is insisting on being offended at the accusation. Instead he decides to help the boy in digging himself a hole, if only so the conversation with him will continue.

"Is it appropriate to call your customers ugly?" Sunshine's jaw drops and Baz prays to any god out there that he didn't see the way that his mouth twitches at the sides, threatening to break out either into a laugh or a theatre song. Baz looks at him again and the latter is becoming more and more compelling.

"That was not what I meant! You see- I wasn't - you are definitely _attrac_ — no! That isn't what I meant! You're....you're—!" Then something seems to set in Sunshine because he drops the metal can of what Baz assumes to be cream, and stares at him bewildered. "You're Basilton!"

Baz frowns. "And you're... my stalker?"

"No, no. Penny warned me that you would come in. Tall, dark, handsome," He looks down at that and Baz shines him a smirk. "An utter prick. Apparently she wanted to set us up at some point."

It clicks in Baz's mind.

"You're the roommate."

"And you're Basilton Grimm-Pitch!"

"And you're Byron!"

"Simon."

"Simon!" Baz corrects, cursing Penny for not telling him he was working. She had been trying to set them up for months now and he had always looked down on the blind date, although now he regrets it immensely. When Penny said he was attractive, she failed to mention that he was Leonardo Di Carprio (ages 20-30) attractive.

"You seem nice." Baz says distastefully.

"You don't."

"I'm _not_. Heaven knows why Penny thought we'd be suited." Simon frowns at him, copying Baz's narrowed eyes.

"Are you saying I'm not good enough for you?"

"I mean, I ordered my coffee about 7 minutes ago and it's not here," Simon goes to interrupt but stops when Baz raises his hand to him. "You're awkward and disorganised and you seem like a good person."

"Being a good person is a good thing!"

"Not when you're a bad one. You look like you're trying to show off." Simon frowns at him intensely and Baz almost feels the need to apologise. _You're also really attractive and actually pretty funny and I just can't deal with emotions._

"I will date the _fuck_ out of you."

Baz stands there, absolutely confused and almost certain he heard that wrong.

"What now?"

"You don't think I'm good enough? Too fucking bad, we're going on a date and I'm going to show you that I am far too fucking good."

"You swore twice in that sentence. And I don't recall agreeing to this." Not that he disagreed, but he holds that back.

Simon seems set on this, as though it was some sort of competition he needs to win to feel validated. Although, if that means Simon goes on a date with him, Baz isn't going to say no to that.

"I don't care. You're going to fall in love with me, Pitch. By the end of the date, you are going to be writing wedding vows and and proposing to me and I am going to laugh in your face."

"Why would I write the vows and then propose?" Baz inquires, as though the whole paragraph didn't make him want to cry. He had already written their wedding vows from the second he first spoke to Sunshiney Simon.

"You're the one doing it. You tell me," Baz rolls his eyes and Simon sees it as an invitation to continue their forced but also weirdly planned and agreed to date. "8pm, I'll pick you up here on Friday."

"You suddenly got a bit more demanding. And harsh," Baz muses and Simon looks like he's seconds away from apologising. "Bit less boring. You're paying and I like Italian."

Baz goes to walk away but, as an after thought, turns around again.

"Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"A bit faster on the coffee.” 


	2. Where Have You Bean?

Baz had three days before his date and, in retrospect, he was the right amount of anxious for going on a date that barely even _qualifies_ as a date because he was only asked in order to prove a point and not from actual romantic interest.

And so, Penny really should have been expecting his furious arrival at 11:57pm on the following night.

The second he sees the glimpse of purple behind the counter, he swings open the doors abruptly, letting them reveal himself in one hell of an entrance.

"Thanks a lot, turnip." He snarls. Penny looks up from her book and raises an eyebrow.

"Turnip?"

"They're purple on top and— you know exactly what I’m talking about." Penny snorts.

"Let me guess. This is about Simon?"

"Of course it is! We're going on a fucking date, after all.”

Penny stops and looks at him as though she has suddenly gained interest in the conversation. Baz had assumed that Simon, being her roommate and all, would have already updated her on the situation. Unless, of course, he just cared about it all less than him and now Baz looks even more over dramatic ponce usual (not that he would ever verbally admit to it.)

"A date?"

"Simon didn't tell you?" Penny's eyes widen suddenly in realisation.

"Oh. _Oh_ , that explains a lot."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I was at Micah's the other night because he was ill— that's why Simon took over here — but when I asked how his shift was, he out of the blue threw so many hypothetical and existential questions at me. I was wondering what you did." Baz isn't sure if the feeling in his stomach is good or bad in knowing that Simon does care about it, but more in a state of crisis than any other.

"What _I_ did?" Penny looks at him like he should know exactly what she means. He does.

"Well, how did you even end up asking him on a date anyways? You're usually pretty uptight about this."

"I'm offended that you assumed that I asked him out more than I'm offended that you called me uptight."

He could practically capture the most her jaw dropped.

_"He_ asked _you_?"

Baz clutched his chest as though he is physically wounded and throws Penny a look of dramatised pain.

"Ouch."

"No, _no_ , it's just that Simon has never asked a guy out before. He said he'd think it would be weird." Penelope says carelessly, as though Baz’s mind hasn’t completely been destroyed.

Simon had never asked a guy out before? What would inspire him to, out of the blue, challenge him to one then? Unless he was actually interested in pursuing things with Baz on more than just a, well, winning basis. Baz can’t help but feel his ego increase evermore.

Rather than voicing his inner confusion, Baz shrugs, pulling up a chair from one of the nearby tables. It's rare for customers to come in before or after peak times.

"I could tell," Baz begins, taking note of Penny's crouched sitting position. He holds back his lecture on how it will catch up on her in old age. "All I did was imply the numpty wasn't up to my standards and suddenly he is demanding me on a date to... make me write wedding vows?"

"So you're not interested in him?" Baz looks at her like she's grown another head.

"Do you even _know_ me? I told him he wasn't up to my standards. That's practically me proposing in itself." Penny sighs in exhaustion.

"You sure do know how to flirt, Baz."

"I got a date with the cute sunshine boy, didn't I?" Baz teases, giving her a look full of pure cheek.

Although his methods of flirting or dating in general were questionable at best, they did always seem to work for him. Penny had commonly blamed it on his hideous good looks and Baz wasn't modest enough to disagree.

"When i said that I would hook you two up, I was uncertain about whether it would work. I know that Simon is a sucker for a challenge and you are nothing but an endless cycle of challenges."

"Didn't you mention he used to date the Wellbelove girl?" Penny nods in certainty. "She isn't exactly the definition of a challenge."

"The key word is 'used' for a reason." Baz nods and decides not to argue that most the time past relationships _can_ be a determination of future partners, if only for the reason of hypocrisy since he has dated his fair share of pricks and Penny wouldn't hesitate to bring them up.

Instead his hands scavenge into his pocket for the change he'd soon owe.

"You know my order." He states, leaning back against the chair in an element of comfort. Penny takes the money, looking at Baz almost suspiciously for a second, before she shakes her head and smiles. Before Baz can ask her what inspired that, she speaks up.

"You really like him, don't you?" Baz replies quickly.

"I don't know him," She gives him a look that somehow expresses a point of 'that answer is a cop out and you know it'. He speaks softly when he begins. "He is like the sun."

"Go on."

"He has an element about him, y'know?” _He is an absolute mess and a dimwit but he is fundamental. He is warmth and bright and almost impossible to hate_ , Baz wants to say. Instead, he pauses for a second, attempting anything but to ramble. “I have only met him once and yet I feel as though the moon. All his brightness reflects onto me."

She can't help but to frown,

"Oh, Baz."

And, this time, he knows.

—

**Penny POV**

When Penny had asked Simon to cover her shift, a part of her had wondered whether Baz would come in that day and whether her roommate would even separate him from the other endless customers. Although, that same part knew of Baz's lasting impression and Simon's ability to get flustered and hotheaded, so she really shouldn't have doubted it so much.

When Baz had flaunted himself into the shop, it didn't take her long to put together that he is going to be mentioning her roommate, but she hadn't expected for it to be as a result of romance and not for the obvious frustration . And she definitely didn't expect it to be because of a prospect of a date.

Penny should be offended, but she isn't too shocked that Simon hadn't come to her to talk about it (although she knew he would eventually). He had always been more closed off with relationship prospects apart from Aggie and he is still coming to terms with the fact that he isn't completely straight. She sometimes doubts whether he will ever fully understand it himself.

“You know my order,” Baz said to her, leaning back into the chair carelessly. Penny knew in that single movement that he was not nearly as relaxed as he was making out to be. She could see into and beyond his facade, and she really hadn’t been expecting him to be oozing anxiety on levels so high that she wouldn’t doubt if he cancelled the date entirely and moved countries.

If this is how Baz is feeling, she can only dread to imagine the state Simon is in.

When she does eventually find him in their apartment, he is against a wall, his knees tucked into his stomach and his eyes sewn open wide. His line of vision is that of nothingness, blankness and total loss of control, his loss of awareness looks to be wearing its own expression of vulnerability.

Penelope isn't usually the type to force romantic details out of him, but she knows that if she leaves him be, there will be little but remorse to return to. And by the stage of stress he is in, Penny is certain he is minutes away from either breaking down or spilling out his heart, and it's a safe moment to steer him away from the former. She fights the urge to fall behind him and shake him until he spills out every drip of his mind, and instead vouches for a sharp clearing of her voice.

Simon jumps up at that and, almost suddenly, she feels too cautioned to outright ask for details, in fear of the aforementioned breakdown being more than just mentioned.

Instead, she attempts a safer route.

"Baz?"

She doesn't feel the need to say much else and Simon's head shoots up, sporting a full face of confusion. Penny now realised that the face wasn't going to change emotions until him and Baz are gallivanting around the town like a couple of pining dimwits.

"You know?"

"Of course. Wanna talk about it?"

In 7 years of friendship, Penny had soon understood that there is no need to beat around any bushes with Simon. It's either you're upfront and honest or your replies are just as well thrown to dust. She adds that to the list of reasons why she believes Baz and Simon Are Suited.

He tilts his head to lock eyes and she notices that he looks relieved that she was the one to ask. His secrets consume him from the inside out if he doesn't spill it immediately. He often compares it to the dripping of wax scorching his mind (at least third degree.)

"I asked him on a date," he begins, slower than usual. He doesn't sound cautious like Penny had expected, but more-so like he has so many thoughts it’s hard to pick which one to say. "He is a dick and confusing and so... together. Not to mention the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous." A pause,

"He is like a cigarette." Simon continues, prompting an eyebrow raise from Penelope.

"Don't you hate smoking?"

"Yes. _Yes_ , exactly. He is like a cigarette. I know he can't be good for me, I know he could destroy me or light my house on fire or... _something_. But he has such a quality of risk and adrenaline that you can't help but want his validation."

"Do you often seek a cigarette's validation?" Simon sighs at her, looking up to the expected smirk.

"Maybe that metaphor wasn't perfect but... does it make sense? He is an absolute twat and I've only met him once, but all I can think about is exploring his—"

"That's quite enough." Penny cuts him short, prompting Simon to shoot her a look of frustration. Although the smile on his face leaves him unbalanced. “It makes sense, Simon. Baz is an oddly confusing character, I can only imagine how you feel.”

"First of all, I was going to say mind and you know it, you git," Simon looks more himself, Penny notes. "But I just want.... well, I just want to take him on a date."

Penny smiles.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You know that's okay?"

"Yeah."

"And you know that you can always talk to me about it?"

"Yeah." Both parties nod. Penny takes a step closer.

"You want a scone?" She offers, lifting up a box of leftovers from the cafe. Simon attempts to balance himself on top of the couch to see them and, when he does, a grin is returned to his face. 

” _Yeah_.”

They share a look explaining nothing short of raw friendship. 


	3. You Mocha Me Crazy

Baz sighs, brushing a comb through his hair for debatably the thousandth time. It was an hour before Simon was to gold carriage sweep him away and Baz had never been so nervous for something so trivial.

_It's just a date_ , he repeats to himself, like a broken record.

It is just a date and, despite Baz's pompousness, he was nothing if not a little experimental. And it's not like Simon was someone he would have thought he would ever be remotely interested in, with his undignified dimness, hotheaded tendencies and dirtied-up shoes.

Maybe that's why he is so nervous.

Because Simon 1) had not said once that he was even remotely interested in Baz, 2) did it as some sort of revenge against him and 3) according to Penny, has never even asked a guy out before.

Baz almost considered himself lucky in some world where he believed in luck.

In choosing an outfit, Baz doesn't deduce Simon to be the type to whisk him away for an all-expenses-paid date in Paris (he didn't give off any Niles Crane vibe). So, after an hour of attempting to dress down dozens of his finest suits, he finally decides on a simple grey one. It was a little less dressy than some of his others, although still cost enough to get him into a Parisian restaurant on the off chance. He makes the conscious effort to match his tie.

In his state of indecisive panic, Baz had thought many times about whether Simon would have thought about this date or his outfit for it as much, and he decides on a solid no. In fact, Baz was contemplating not even turning up on the chance that Simon stands him up and he has to cluelessly sport a suit to a coffee shop, although that thought is quickly dismissed. Baz believed in little but he believed that Simon was far too knight in shining armour to be the type to stand him up without a valid reason. Although it still did little to calm his nerves.

T-minus 10 minutes and Baz finds himself evaluating his image again in the hallway mirror. He knows that if he is even a second earlier than Simon, then Penny is going to give him a fire round of questions. Where are you going? What are you doing? Are you going to treat him nicely?

That of which Baz would reply with a solid I don't know, I don't know and a blatant no.

He is none the wiser and Penny's monologue in his head tried to tell him something, but Baz pushes it out of his mind, collects his wallet off the counter and makes his way down to the cafe, with hardly a minute to spare. He wishes he wasn't as nervous as he felt, but the expectations that are holding with the date seemed to make his all the more questioning of it. Not only was he curious as to Simon's true motives behind asking him, he knows that if he doesn't turn up, Penny is going to come outside with pitiful looks, reciting all those sappy, emotional movie scene quotes. She has built her own expectations of what is to happen and he is all to aware that her disappointment is on the line here.

Thankfully for him, his cousin, Dev, isn't much the sort for emotional movies. Instead, he will confirm all of Baz's worst nightmares, with the harshness of the Grimm side and remain oblivious to any effects on him. Much like his father (Baz had always thought Dev acted much more like his father than he had, alike to his siblings. Baz had always adapted his mother's traits, save for the ability to keep himself emotionless in difficult situations. He had often doubted whether that was taking after his father or a coping mechanism for his mother's death).

When he finally finds himself outside of the cafe door, he spots golden curls inside and he breathes a breath of relief into the cold of the air. An outline of smoke follows with it, a pathway for when Baz moves through it. He notices as he gets closer to the door that Simon had pulled up one of the stools like he often did, leaning over the counter to talk to Penny. He looks almost frantic and Baz swears the second his fingers brush the handle, Simon's head turns to look at him.

The first emotion Baz sees in his eyes are urgency and panic, before it transforms into something much more warm that forces Baz to pull away from it. He notices the warmth of the glance is matched with an equally warm grin and Baz fights against comparing it again to the radiance of the sun on his cheeks. He blames the pink of his face on the change in temperature as he walks through the doors. He looks Simon up and down, evaluating his outfit the way he did to himself earlier. Contrary to Baz's suit of the wealthy, Simon is dressed in a slightly oversized jumper, jeans and rugged shoes. Simon looks down sheepishly when he notices Baz's judgment.

"Simon." Baz greets, although his words sound to harsh to be a greeting. A statement, he would rather. "Good evening. Right on time."

"I-uhh- Baz," he stutters back in reply. "You look... just amazing."

"I'm aware." Simon takes a second of looking at him, then looking at Penny and then looking back at him before he cracks a smile.

"You're kidding?"

"My ego is big enough to take compliments, barista boy. I have got no need to kid." Simon smiles wider now.

"Oh god, I wish I didn't like that about you, quite honestly," he turns to Penny now. "Okay, Pen! I'll have him back before 12."

"Have a good time, you two."

And just like that, Simon is whirling him out the doors into the chill of an early December night.

"So, what are we even doing?" Baz asks into the fog of the evening. The feel of Simon's hand around his wrist engraves into his skin and he wonders absentmindedly whether Simon had even noticed.

"We're going to mini golf!" Baz freezes and, by default, pulls simon backwards with him. The dim flicker of the streetlight lights up half his face, revealing a grin of pure cheek. Baz has a sneaky idea that he was expecting his reaction.

"Mini golf? This is how I'm going to, _what was it now_ —!"

"Fall in love with me. Yep! You're going to see my flawless golf skills, swoon over how fucking great I am and then get writing the vows." Baz raises an eyebrow.

"And then you will break my heart?"

"That depends how snarky you're being." Simon ties the words to a grin. Baz consciously considers how seemingly calm Simon looks now and, even more so, how less angry he is in comparison to the other night. He makes the decision to voice that.

"Oh, really? You seem a lot less hotheaded than our first meeting." Simon makes an effort to roll his eyes, pulling him further forward.

"It's almost like you want me to be a bitch."

"I do like to match," Baz retorts, looking around the street in some sort of confusion. "Although, i don't think this is the way to any car?"

"You're right. We're catching a bus."

Baz gives him a incredulous look. Unsurprisingly to anyone who knows him, he had an intense hatred for public transport and its breeding of bacteria and germs and chavs in ridiculous hats and oversized jumpers. Simon shrugs his shoulders indifferently.

"You're posh. I wanted to see how far up that stick is up your ass."

"You know, taking me on a bus isn't exactly going to woo me in the direction of making a start on your vows." Simon stops at the bus stop, standing beside it with his bus card already in hand.

"Your suit is going to get germs on it."

"I know."

"Your fancy hair is—!"

"God, you really aren't my type of person." Simon laughs and it's short and stuffy, but it results in simon locking joyous eyes at him. Baz notices that all the nervous or awkwardness from earlier had been completely demolished when he was in the presence of the boy and he suddenly feels unworthy of the grin sent in his direction.

Simon most definitely is his type of person.

—

The sight of Baz on a bus was not one that Simon thought he would enjoy, but he really, really does.

Simon had absentmindedly assumed that Baz would have a bus card, but he really should have considered other options when the pompous twat turns up on a casual date in a tuxedo (Simon can't help but keep look at it. He is willing to bet money that it's worth more than his life) (he looks like something straight out of a fairytale. He has never thought that the night sky could make someone look quite the way Baz did).

Baz hands over the money in a wordless transaction (Simon wonders how he knew the price of the ticket, but chose not to ask) and the driver extends a hand to give him the ticket. Baz looks pained to have to enter a metre radius with the man to take it, prompting a couple of seconds of disgusted stand off between the two before baz decides to give in. They stare at each other for a couple more seconds of loathing.

Amused but unwilling to see Baz get into a fight with a 60 year old bus driver, Simon ushers him on to a seat close to the back of the bus. Baz, as pretentious as ever, speaks up.

"This is quite the sight," He says under his breath, still glaring at the front of the bus. "That bus driver was a right prick."

"So were you."

"Don't act like you don't love it, goldilocks." Simon rolls his eyes, although a hint of a smirk still remains.

"God, I hate you."

"Which leads me to my next question."

"Was there a first—?"

"Why," Baz cuts off, as cool as ever. "Did you even ask me out? Penny mentioned you having an identity crisis."

" _Penny mentioned_ —!"

"My question first." Baz states and, if not for the twitching of his mouth, simon would be taking the whole situation more serious.

"You're hot." He says with a shrug, allowing baz a moment to glare at him.

"Well I know that, but why not just try and sleep with me then?"

"Who says I'm not?" Baz glares even harder.

"Trying to sleep with me hardly requires proposing a date."

"Quite promiscuous, are we?"

"Shocked that you know a word more than two syllables," Baz teases and Simon goes to continue on his thot accusations. "And _no_ , not quite promiscuous. Is that all then?"

"Is that all why I asked you out?" A nod. "No, of course not. I asked you out because you're an absolute dick in, like, a good way. A funny way. And you're all tall and upright and pompous but then you also swear like a sailor and try to get into fist fights with bus drivers and I know I did it to prove you wrong about liking me, but a very very tiny part of it was because you drive me insane. Like... I don't know, passionate."

"Two minutes ago you couldn't even form a coherent sentence and you just wrote a 1000 word sonnet."

Simon blinks at him.

"I just spill my heart out and you make fun of me?"

"You better had start getting used to that one.” Baz explains, prompting a laugh from Simon as he stands up to press the bus' stop button.

"Why do I have a sneaky suspicion that that will come back to haunt me?"

Baz full on flashes his teeth at him at it makes him severely light headed.

"Of course it will, Mr Passionate." Simon groans, rising to his feet as the bus comes to a halt.

"Come on then. Let me be passionate aboutyou."

He smiles, tapping his card against the reader as Baz follows. "Or more specifically, passionate about you being obliterated at mini golf."

"You seem rather full of yourself. Perhaps hanging out with me is having an adverse effect."

Simon laughs, disembarking the bus with Baz only to be faced with soggy footpaths and dark clouds.

"I don't think I like this new version of myself, if I'm honest."

"As opposed to the old version who takes me on a date on the basis of a bet." Simon smirks from just the corner of his mouth, continuing to walk onwards towards a building painted in bright yellows and reds and greens. It has a large sign on the front with a club stick and a putt putt hole. Beside the imagery, it reads _Holey Moley Putt Putt._

Baz turns to Simon — who somehow still glistens in the dampening weather — and pulls a face.

"It's less than appeasing to the eye."

"Much like yourself," Baz narrows his eyes at Simon's grin of cheek. "Oh, don't act all offended. You're cute and you know it."

Simon noticed Baz ever so slightly blush before returning to his normal cocky expression. He grins as some sort of medallion.

"C'mon, you know a part of you is excited to play it." Baz pulls another face that perfectly depicts that a bigger part of him is willing to knock Simon out with the club.

"Maybe a small, very minute, extremely minuscule part is excited to reassert myself as the mini golf champion around here."

"You sure can talk the talk, but are you ready to walk the walk?" Baz shrugs through the doors.

"I would never claim something that is false."

———

"This is fucking _rigged_!"  
  


Simon is bent over in laughter, his eyes threatening to water. Baz— still in all formal attire— is presented in front of him, club in hand as he makes his 6th attempt at the round. Simon had managed to pull a hole in one, so the rest of the round was spent watching the stubborn posh twat swinging the golf aimlessly, yelling a variety of vulgar words. The family in front of them continue to look back in disgrace.

"Did you fucking see that? The ball just rolled right over the hole! That isn't possible, that isn't physics or gravity! Or —— quit laughing!”

That only makes Simon laugh harder, watching baz groan again.

"The key is to hit it gently!" Baz narrows his eyes at him, turning around just to swing and miss the ball entirely. "The key is to hit it at all!"

"Oh, shove off. This is most definitely not making me want to write wedding vows." Simon gasps.

"Excuse you, I promised to woo you with my incredible golf skills! I don't like to disappoint.”

"How about you woo me by not cheating?"

"Excuse you, I am the most loyal boyfriend you could get," Simon teases, rethinking it as Baz's raised eyebrow. "I'm _kidding_."

"Are you selling yourself, Snow?” Baz snarks. “Do I at least get a discount code?”

"You know, normal people don't call their date by their last name—!"

"Already demanded one date and I only thought you'd be up to the second if I was... oh, what was it, now? 'Writing my vows'." Baz smirks. "But i stand corrected. Quite obviously, you are already trying to be my most loyal boyfriend."

"Are you saying that you're not writing your vows?" Simon attempts taking the pressure off himself, falling back into the golf hill with a clumsy ease.

"Because it sounded to me like you were."

A raise of an eyebrow.

"Oh really? And what part would that have been?"

"When you wrote that sappy paragraph!"

"That was you, you absolute numpty." Baz laughs, narrowing his eyes. The grin on his face looks far too real for Simon to handle. He had never seen someone look so genuinely happy.

"Can you blame me when you stand around like _that_?"

Baz frowns suddenly, the rawness quickly reforming into a facade of disinterest. Simon wishes he hadn't said anything.

"Like, what?"

"Nothing, Putt Putt Idiot. Take your shot, I want to win already."

"Putt putt idiot," Baz repeats under his breathe. "I'll show you putt putt idiot."

He swings his club a little to aggressively, the ball flying over the back fence of the course. Baz glares at Simon who is still laughing.

"That's 6 shots, dude, you're out!"

"This is horrible." Baz frowns, moving to the next course. Although his frown didn't last for long when he looked at the boy behind him.

The radiance of him had never failed to stun Baz and, as soon as he thought he was over it, Simon would look or smile or laugh at him again in that way. How the fuck is he expected to win anything when the boy is standing around like that? All glowing and beaming like all the goodness in the world.

Simon sets himself up and effortlessly hits the ball into the pocket in a single shot, turning to Baz with another astronomical grin. As though seeking his praise; as though Baz would praise.

"Decent job." He attempts, which is as good as Simon would even begin to get. Simon impossibly gets happier.

"Oh my god, were those wedding vows?"

"You need to higher your standards if you think 'decent job' is a wedding vow."

"I don't think my standards could get any higher." Simon says, looking right into Baz's eyes.

To stop himself from writing wedding vows and losing this type of competition they had ongoing, he turns his back to Simon.

"Trust me, they can't."

And that's when Simon realised that, unsettlingly fast and in a way he has never experienced, that he was falling for the bastard in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of your lovely comments x they make my day!!!


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